


Crystal Blue Persuasion

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2014, Drug Use, Episode: s05e04 The End, Future Castiel, Future Dean Winchester, Future Fic, Overdosing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:46:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in early 2013, Cas is losing his Grace and overdoses on pills the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crystal Blue Persuasion

Dean gritted his teeth as he dug the tweezers deep into his shoulder. He had already drunk most of a bottle of whiskey, but it hadn't done much to neutralize the pain of the bullet that had been lodged in there. The bumps in the road weren't helping much either and as they jostled over them he couldn't help but swear at Jon, who was driving at the time.

He hated Croats, they were a pain to fight, but it seemed that the soldiers were even worse. After all of this time, the Croats had started to get dumb, losing the knowledge to use firearms. No, it was the soldiers who you had to look at for.

Dean grunted loudly, trying not to scream in pain as he pulled the bullet out and chased the pain with the remainder of the bottle. They were trying to save as much of the stuff as they could, but this was close to an emergency.

He wrapped the wound with some of the gauze that they kept in the truck. It needed to be sewn up, but that would have to wait. They didn't carry that good of supplies in their first aid kit.

The camp looked as it always did, everyone keeping as busy as they could, Chuck going from person to person, his clipboard in hand, and Cas out of sight. There was something wrong with the angel, Dean knew that, and it was something other than how the rest of the garrison was gone. He knew that Cas was losing everything that made him an angel, but there was something else happening. He was broken and Dean didn't know how.

He pulled himself out of the truck, leaving Jon and Mark to deal with the supplies that they had gotten. He needed to see the doctor, get patched up for real, and he needed a drink.

He didn't get to do that though, as Rosie, a young blond who had found herself a little crush on Dean's angel, rushed up to him. Her face was red, her eyes wide with panic, her breathing shallow.

"Dean!" she shouted, drawing his attention, "You have to come! There's something wrong with Cas!"

Dean dropped everything. His slight drunkenness, the pain in his shoulder, everything. Cas was his one constant in this ever changing world. He was the one thing he could count on, maybe not physically, but mentally. He was the one that never betrayed him, even when his brother had gone and said yes to Lucifer. Cas could have stopped it, he could have killed Sam and scattered his atoms, but he hadn't. He was Dean's friend.

He sprinted to Cas's cabin, ignoring the beads that stood as a poor excuse of a door.

Cas was on the floor, curled up and seizing. His muscles were flexing and relaxing with no rhythm, no plan, and his whole body was going into spasms as a result. There was a thick white froth around his mouth, mixing with a cooling pool of bile by his head. His eyes were wide, but the pupils were raised, rolling back in his head.

In a second, Dean was upon him, clutching the angel by the lapels of his filthy and ruined dress shirt. He found himself calling out the angel's name, trying to get a response, but the angel was not responsive.

Gritting his teeth around the pain, Dean moved his hold to Cas's side, holding him down as he seized so that he couldn't choke on his bile and saliva. He did so with one hand, working off his belt with the other. He didn't know if he should, Cas needed to breathe, but he shoved the thick leather into the angel's squirming mouth. Immediately the large, square teeth bit into it, revealing just how painful the seizure was. As bad as choking would be, Dean didn't want Cas to accidentally bite off his own tongue.

Dean looked around, trying to see what had happened. He saw Rosie standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself nervously. He shouted at her to get the doctor and she jerked up, as if she'd been in a daze. It didn't take much prodding though and she had soon vanished.

Dean's large green eyes fell on the angel's battered overcoat, which hung lazily over the back end of a ruined couch. Cas was rarely seen without it on, but there it was not even carefully cast aside. On top of it was the jacket to his black suit and a small orange bottle.

Leaving his downed friend for a moment, Dean went to the bottle, quickly reading over the label. It said Ketelar and somehow Dean remembered what that was. It was a prescription of ketamine. He didn't understand why Cas had them, why he even thought he would need them, or why the doctor would fill him a prescription for them. Cas hadn't been in any pain that Dean knew of.

What was even more surprising than Cas's possession of the drugs was the fact that the bottle was completely empty.

He headed back to Cas, who he now knew was in the middle of an overdose. Had he taken the entire bottle? The angel had finally stopped moving but his stillness was a whole other problem. He was too still. Dean removed the belt from Cas's loose mouth, holding his sweaty face in both hands. His big blue eyes were closed, the lids red as if he'd been crying, and the rest of his skin was pale and cold to the touch.

"Cas?" Dean demanded, "Wake up! C'mon!"

Cas did as he was told but his eyes were rolling in his head. He was having a hard time keeping them open. He reached out with one arm but it was too heavy for his drug filled body and it dropped lazily to his side. His breathing was weak and slow.

Dean moved around until he was behind his friend, grabbing under his arms and pulling him towards the bathroom. He didn't know how to cure the angel, but he had a couple ideas on how to help. He pushed the toilet seat up and held his friends head over it.

"Alright, Cas, let's get this stuff out of you." He pleaded, trying to make it sound like he wasn't, but his lip was trembling in fear. He was pushing back tears and he didn't know why. He hadn't cried in a full year but now he was on the brink and he didn't want to.

Cas's blue eyes, lines in red, flickered up at Dean but he didn't move. That was when Dean saw it. He could see the hopelessness, the helplessness, in Cas. He couldn't do that.

"Cas, if you don't throw that shit up, I'm going to force it out of you." He threatened. Anger, good. That worked a lot better for Dean than fear and grief.

Cas tried, leaning his sweating forehead against the cold porcelain, but nothing came out, nothing but a wheeze. He was having a hard time just breathing. Dean growled under his breath but knelt down beside him, his fingers knotted into Cas's thick hair to keep him upright. He didn't want to but he reached into his friend's mouth, two of his fingers reaching down his throat.

It worked and Cas lunged forward, dispelling bile and toxins into the toilet. He reached forward, his arms a bit stronger, and embraced the bowl, pushing as much of the bad stuff out of him as he could. It wasn't enough, Dean knew that. There was a lot more of it in him than that, but a lot of it had already been absorbed.

The doctor should have been there by now. What was taking him so long?

Dean sighed and wrenched himself to his tired feet, leaving Cas there at the toilet. He needed sleep. It had been too long and now with the wound in his shoulder he's about to collapse. Stepping outside he pulled a bottle from the shed where they saved their drinking water, opening it and returning to the angel's side. He had poured out a lot more of his stomach contents by now so Dean handed him the water.

Cas could barely wrap his long fingers around it though so Dean instead sat down beside him once again, tipping his head back and pouring the water slowly down his throat.

He swallowed forcefully, having a hard time even controlling his body. Once the bottle was empty the angel fell forward once more, throwing up the water and some more bile into the toilet. Dean shook his head, not so much disappointed as he was worried. He seemed to be doing a lot better, so Dean was starting to calm down a bit too.

He could now feel his own pain again, not only in his shoulder but in his joints, his back, and his muscle. He needed a rest and no one seemed to think he deserved it. He was their leader. He was the one that everyone looked up to. He didn't know why, it wasn't like he wasn't as flawed as they rest of them.

Not really thinking about it, Dean grabbed some of the toilet paper on the counter and wadded it up, wiping some of the bile and froth that had been on Cas's face before he'd even arrived off. The angel looked tired, still close to falling asleep in the reaction of his overdose. He stared at Dean, as if he wasn't entirely sure of who Dean was and slowly reached out with those weak fingers.

The fingers touched the rough stubble on Dean's jaw and Dean felt like pulling away from him. There was so much pain in his friend's tired eyes and that sadness seemed to drill into Dean as they locked eyes.

"Yerhurt." the angel muttered, his words slurring together. Just like always, Cas was ignoring his own problems, immediately seeing Dean's instead.

"I'm fine." Dean said trying to keep Cas from helping him, but it was too late. There was a gasp, coming from the angel's chapped lips, and Dean felt better. There was no more aching in his joints, the hole in his shoulder was healed, and he didn't even feel tired anymore. Cas on the other hand looked spent. He was having an even harder time staying awake.

"You idiot." Dean fretted, "Why'd you go and do that, huh? It would have healed on its own."

Cas slowly blinked, not taking his eyes off of the warrior before him. He had been helping as much as he could, especially with the wounded of the camp. He could always be found with the doctor when someone had come back from a mission, healing people as best he could. Once the camp had even been surrounded by Croats and they had to go for a week without eating. Cas had kept everyone nourished the whole time with his angelic powers.

When he thought no one was looking, he would glow, checking to see how much of his grace was left. Dean had seen him do this, but had never told him. In the beginning it was too bright, Dean had to turn away, but more recently it was just a soft glow, a poorly flickering fluorescent bulb. He needed his grace, especially now, to keep himself breathing, to heal from his overdose.

The angel smiled though, weakly and without caring, before his head drooped. He was exhausted.

Dean groaned but stood up, grabbing one of Cas's limp arms, "C'mon Aurora, at least walk to the couch."

Cas wasn't moving though and Dean could hear him snoring lightly through his shallow slow breathing.

He shook the angel, but even then he wouldn't wake up.

Dean grabbed him from his sitting position and lifted him, surprised and dismayed by how light the angel was. He'd only had to carry the angel a few times before and he was usually at least partially on his feet then, and he'd had a substantial weight, but now he was light, too light, as if he were a child or as if he were starving to death.

Dean had him halfway to the couch when Rosie burst back into the cabin, her eyes once again wild.

"Dean! The croats are here! We need you, now!" she shouted her voice almost hysterical.

Dean stared at her, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open stupidly. Croats? In the camp? That would explain why the doctor had never come, but still. How did they even find the camp?

He didn't let go of Cas but his leadership persona fell over him like a heavy sheet. The surprise on his face was replaced by the stony wall they were all so used to.

"Get everyone who isn't cut, wounded, or turned in here, now! We'll hold them off!" he ordered, "Bring as many weapons as you can."

He didn't like how much of his father he heard in his voice but there was nothing he could do about it. Dad would have excelled in this environment.

He moved Cas to the couch and finally set him down. For a moment his arms were pinned under the angel and he didn't remove them. He liked having the weight there. It was strange he and Cas had rarely touched and it had always just been a comforting pat on the shoulder. There had always been a look in Cas's eyes when he'd seen Dean and Sam embrace though and Dean thought he finally understood what that look was.

Cas wanted to be held as well. He wanted to be loved. He wanted to belong just as Sam and Dean had belonged with one another. Just how both boys had belonged to Bobby. Cas belonged to no one.

Well now Dean was holding him and he didn't want to let go. He didn't want to lose his angel, not to this virus that had killed almost all the world, not to an overdose, not to anything. And Cas didn't even know. He was too asleep to know of it.

Reluctantly, Dean removed his arms from around the angel and he grabbed the overcoat, stretching it out and laying it over the angel like a blanket.

A crowd of people, maybe fifty in all, crowded into the cabin, each carrying a gun, and Dean found himself searching amongst them. There were people missing, but not too many, maybe five in all. Dean was sorry to see that the doctor was one of them.

Dean left Cas then, heading back to his people. They couldn't see him like this, caring about one individual when he should be fighting for them. He could feel eyes on him as he drew his pistol from his thigh holster and moved towards the front of the crowd.

"Alright, there's only one door and they're all going to try to come through it. We should be able to pick them off easily. Jon and I will take care of that, everyone else watch the windows, just in case." He commanded.

It wasn't just a few of them with their eyes on him, it was all of them. Every person he commanded had their eyes on him. Soon enough, there was a hand there as well.

Dean turned, seeing the prophet looking up at him, "Is he alright?" Chuck asked, concerned.

"Not really, no." Dean admitted.

Chuck smiled, nervously, "Then go to him. You're the only person who can help him. He doesn't trust anyone like he trusts you. We've got this."

Dean looked around seeing that the entire crowd agreed with Chuck. They needed a leader, yes, but they could handle this. Cas needed Dean more than they did at the moment.

Reluctantly, Dean nodded and headed back to Cas's side.

The angel's eyes were open now and he was lying on his side, but his breathing was still shallow and he didn't seem to know what exactly was going on. Dean grabbed one of his hands and tried to ignore the fact that there were other people in the room, holding the fingers to his chiseled lips.

"Why'd you do it Cas?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"Yousaid I shed take the whole boddle." Cas replied, "When Iwas hungover. You said ths how many Idneed."

"That was back when you were an angel." Dean said, trying to keep the tears from his eyes, "Why'd you want to take pills anyway?"

"Dn." He mumbled, his other hand touching Dean's cheek, "Yu knewme when I wasn angel. Now I'm nothing. M'useless."

"That's not true." Dean interrupted.

"I'm most powrlss. I'm hapless, hopeless. We livein a worl where we might die any momt. I js. I wanna forget what I am. Wanna forget was happenin."

"Cas you can't." Dean pleaded, "Don't do this to me. You aren't a coward."

At that Cas smiled, a large, terrifyingly human smile. Dean wanted to wipe it away, get his angel back to his normal self again. Deep down, he knew he never could.

"Don't you see Dn? I'm. When something bad happns, some, you, become herros. Others, like me, become cowrds."


End file.
